Of Shakespeare, Bread, and Meetings
by mypennameispixienewt676
Summary: As the time went and his eyes shutted close,the book was on the table and the bread was next to it, completely forgotten. My first attempt of writing a JehanxAzelma fic :))


**Hullo people! I'm starting to ship this too :)). **

**First, I searched in a Les Mis wiki and it was told that Azelma is not like her sister, Eponine, who was independent. So please no bashing if you think Azelma- in this fic is acting unlike what a Thenardier supposed to be- strong and doesn't take a dang about what people says about them. Forgive me, I tried. I'm sorry if I am going to fail you.**

**Second, Sorry if they would be out of their characters.**

**Third, all of those quotes belongs to Mr. William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.**

**Fourth, please do not expect such great writing with me, I am not that good enough. I wish I'm improving though.**

**Lastly, please do leave reviews.**

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It was a normal day in the Cafe Musain, the leader with golden hair and sharp features were on the make-shift table along with the Guide who was, standing next to him with both arms crossing on his chest. On the tables scattered around the Cafe were occupied by drinking-and half listening companions, their wide grins and pink cheeks oozing out a happy and cheerful vibe all around the Cafe.

This vibe wasn't unnoticed by a certain poet sitting at the far edge of the room, his head bobbing up and down to look up at the commotion and down on his book. He wore a permanent smile on his face- seeing that his friends were actually having a lovely passion inside their hearts and also, the cheery uproar they cause whenever their leader shouts something at the top of his lungs.

Being the observant he was, he brought his eyes to look around the room- on the spots where some people wouldn't notice. Appararently, it was still the same as it was before- same candles, same smell of the mahogany wood, and alas, same people around him. Not that he was complaining though, he loves his brothers with all his heart. The slower his eyes has to fixate to things, the quicker his eyes blinked to ensure he has seen a moving cloaked figure.

Pushing out gently out from his seat, he stood up with his book across his chest. With the perks of having lightweight pair of feet, he made a beeline towards the cloaked figure-who was standing frozen on it's spot on the dirt filled corner of the Cafe. "Why are you observing me M'seiur?" the cloaked figure was on their back, but he doesn't miss that it was a female. "Pardon me Mademoiselle, but your presence seem to make me curious. Perhaps you want to stay and have a polite talk with me?" slowly and shivering, the Mademoiselle turned her body to make an appearance to the man. His eyes lingering on her skeleton-liked body and bruised skin, she seem to know that he was observing her again, but she reminded herself that she has no pride left therefor, she has no rights to say no.

He observed the mademoiselle with no judgement passing through his eyes- not bothering the stolen food inside her arms. "Come Mademoiselle, you surely need some company" to his surprise;although without judgement, the mademoiselle nodded and trailed after him, he has learned from her brisk walk that she was not wearing any foot garments on both of her feet. He made no comment on them and instead, he smiled kindly to the mademoiselle.

"I hope you don't mind, I seem to like lemon tea" the girl took the cup from his awaiting hands and sipped the contains with at ease, her hands clutching the sides of the cup. "Forgive me for my lack of knowledge of being polite M'seiur, I grew up with only my sister, Eponine being a mother to me and even if she wore that independent facade on her face, I know that I still need to work for myself and to lessen my fath- the cruelty people on the streets" the man nodded with a smile, she found herself slightly comforted with how the man didn't remove the welcoming gesture on her-a street rat.

"Oh but you are lovely Mademoiselle" he patted her hand that was resting on the table, her eyes blinked a few times. She blushed and a shy smile forming on her lips,he smiled back at her and flipped his book on the top of the table. _She is lovely _he thought. being the love lover he is, the natural beauty of the mademoiselle made him hitch his breath, even with those dirt and scars, the girl has this effect that made him rethink of what beauty truly is.

She can feel his gaze on her and it sort of made her feel... Wonderful. Her air was surprisingly has the problem of making her breathe, she shrugged and bit her lower lip to prevent on groaning in frustration, her eyes that was currently staring at the cold bread wrapped at the top of her thighs raised slowly and made eye contact with the hazelnut eyed man.

For something so beautiful and full of youth innocence, she is surprised that the man would ever look at her without judgement and disgust. She was made for the night, running, pick-pocketing, and selling herself was the only cycle she has ever known. Fear. She lived in fear. She was a Thenardier, and love wasn't spelled on her side. However, with those eyes full of love staring back at her, she doesn't know if the feeling she was currently feeling was love, yet somehow it feels so right.

"What do you have there M'seiur?" She broke eye contact and leaned with her hands folding on the table. "It is called Romeo and Juliet. It is a gift from my Grandfather from England" she nodded, her hair falling from her ears down infront of her face. She scanned the cover and bit her tongue to stop trying to read the words with no avail.

"It is a tragic romance between two star-crossed lovers, Juliet and her Romeo" he closed his eyes, the magnificent feeling of happiness and melancholy made him smile. for him, love is everything, love makes the world spin, without love-what kind of cruel world it would be to live in?.

"It seems beautiful M'seiur" she sighed softly. He opened one page on the book that he seem to read all over again. He doesn't know why he wants to share it with the mademoiselle inront of him, but it somehow, glows on her. "I'm sorry how I dissapoint you M'seiur, but I never learned how to read"

He shrugged and patted an empty seat next to him.

"I shall read for you then" he opened the book and tilted his head to smile reassuringly at her. She smiled back, her body leaned a bit closer to his so that their shoulders were brushing next to each other. Some tingly sensation automatically rushes from the tips of her fingers down to her stomach. She shrugged and bit her lip to stop the tingles to run back and front.

"_O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?. Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet_." she scanned through his pages and watched his eyes shine bright with wonder and passion. Suddenly, she wonders how it was possible on how this braided-haired man can have such an affect on her, let alone make her feel beautiful inside with a single look.

_"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet" _She doesn't know that he was watching her at the side of his eyes, her eyes shining bright at him makes his heart melt. Love. He is passion and love, he is Jean Poulvaire and he knows if he is feeling affectionate feelings on a person.

"My name's Azelma"

"That is a beautiful name Azelma. Mine is Jean Prouvaire, but ofcourse my companions call me Jehan" She nodded, his eyes never leaving the page on the book that was on his hand. He continued reading-it was no problem for him, since he loves to read with passion.

He read and read until the Cafe was slowly loosing the capacity of the people in them. Some bowed a goodbye on him and some smiled and pointed out at him and his 'companion'.

He found out that Azelma is a listener more than a talker. She didn't speak whenever he recits the book, let alone it seems like they can compliment each other, with him looking at her expressions, he can somehow read her and vice versa.

He found out through observations that Azelma dreamed of marrying for love. She was younger than Eponine and unlike her sister, she was not independent. She follows her father everywhere and made her do things that resulting to another scar and bruise. She was strong yet fragile, she knew that she cannot easily let go of her life yet she still hopes. He thinks that it was beautiful and inspiring.

She found out that he was also like her, he also seeks love. She found it hard to believe that the man full of love, passion, and kindness never truly met a woman who can satisfy his innocent yearning. He spent his childhood having dinners with women who were filled with colorful faces and tight corsets, he never liked to marry one of those.

She smiled warmly through her not so perfect teeth, she wonders if she was dreaming of all of it. The radiating beautiful feeling makes her want to just slip out of her miserable life and let the dream sink in, and for once she was not afraid of anything her father might possibly to do her, this man next to her makes her feel safe, and for once she wants to feel selfish.

_"For never was a story of more woe. Than this of Juliet and her Romeo." _He closed the book and let it slip from his hands. Azelma, who was surprisingly asleep, was leaning on his shoulder and a smile on her lips. He sighed contently and let his fall to the top of hers._ "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!/ For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." _he murmured and let his words sink in.

As the time went and his eyes shutted close,the book was on the table and the bread was next to it, completely forgotten.


End file.
